The G-boys' New Years Resolutions
by Ace of Hearts
Summary: Heh, I know it's technically not New Years Eve yet, but I couldn't wait the, like, one day to post this one.


Heh, I know I'm supposed to be working on the Job Fic, but I just got a whole load of Creed merchandise, and was trying to find a way to wear down my giddiness through a nice and short fanfic (trust me, the Job Fic is going to be way longer than this--you decide whether it's a good thing or a bad thing), and this sucker was born. I know it's not new year's yet, but screw that, I couldn't wait, like, two days, to write this! And don't worry, my hyperness has started to wear off, and I'll try to upload the first chapter of the still unnamed job fic (any ideas?) sometime after New Year's Eve. Eh, I kinda have to write said chapter first, though. Anyway, while I run around trying to put together the first chapter and wear out my nice, new Creed CD, I guess you'll have to settle for... 

**~ The G-boys' New Years Resolutions ~**

**Heero Yuy**

**B**uy a new gun--I only need a CZ75 to complete my collection, but those things cost a small fortune. Guess I'll have to raid Winner's credit card stash sooner than I'd thought. 

**G**et one of those glasses with fake nose and mustache things. Apparently, Relena can still recognize me in a trench coat and Fedora hat. 

**S**hrink all of the shorts that Relena gave me for Christmas. They're not tight enough. 

**B**reak last week's world record of highest dive off a cliff without a parachute. 

**F**ind out what is this sex thing that Duo keeps on talking about. 

**F**ind out what is this breast implant thing that Relena keeps on talking about. 

**F**inally beat Zechs at the Annual Karaoke Competition. There is only one Undisputed Karaoke Champion Of The World, and that is me! Not some grown man with a tin can with eyeholes shoved over his head. And his hair looks stupid, too! Erm...what was I saying again? 

**F**orce Duo to watch while I blow up every single music store that carries rock, heavy metal, rap, or grunge. One can only take so many hours of listening to the baka crank up Great-Grandpa Rock and Really Limp Bizkit to ninety decibels. 

**F**orce Relena to watch while I blow up every single music store carrying teenypop. One can only take so many hours of listening to the *bleep* crank up AC-Town, Whitney Lears (I think that's where she got her whole breast implant issue from in the first place, whatever those things may be), and In Synch to ninety decibels. 

**F**orce Quatre to watch--but only after I've managed to find his secret stash of credit cards--while I blow up every single music store carrying classic and Broadway. One can only take so many hours of listening to Phantom Of The Concert Hall every *bleep*-ing day! 

**Duo Maxwell**

**G**et to Quatre's credit card stash before Heero does. 

**N**ever do anything stupid to impress Hilde again. Those Elvis costumes cost a fortune, and all that extra padding to get the fat look down just made me feel like a butterball--albeit a very gorgeous butterball, naturally. Ooh, albeit. Hah, in your face, Winner, I _so_ can use big words! 

**M**ake my hair even softer and shinier than it already is. Gonna take a while though, seeing as how hard it is to improve upon perfection. 

**T**ry not to look too gorgeous; I don't want a repeat of that incident at the mosh pit. That girl would have grabbed my bloomers right out of my pants had I not been wearing a belt! 

**O**n second thought...scratch that, it's not my fault that I'm gorgeous, and once you've got it, flaunt it! I'm sure Little Shinigami can handle the trauma if it's for a good cause. 

**F**ind out what Catherine's nickname for Trowa is; I know it's something embarrassing, but every time I try to get near Cathy, Trowa's there to unleash Lion-san on me! What a big meanie! And I thought clowns were supposed to make you smile. 

**C**onvince other people that a. I'm not a freaking priest, and b. I ain't doing no stinkin' weddings! Not even if they've got the best catering in the world. Burger President Of The World Nation's much greasier, anyway. 

**F**inally decide which is better: Baywatch Incarnation No. 999994 or Baywatch Incarnation No. 999997. 

**C**onvince Quatre that I so totally can be a gentleman. I always stick out the finger when I'm drinking beer, and gesturing for other guys to "Suck it" is so totally a compliment--it means that at least they have one to suck! I think. 

**C**onvince Hilde that I so totally look much hotter than that lead singer dude from Neo-Creed! I've got longer hair, and my eyes are prettier, and my lashes are softer, and my smile's cuter, and I've got a great big pimple--I mean, dimple!--and I so look better in black, and I can sing much better than him--at least that's what my inner Shinigami tells me, anyway--and I'm more adorable, and I'm younger than him, and my hair is much prettier... 

**F**ind out what a spotted dick is. If it is what I think it is, then I sure hope it ain't contagious. Ew! If it is contagious, then you'll never see me shower at the gym again! Well, maybe if my water gets cut off--yet again--and Quatre still won't let me move in with him. Boy that guy can sure hold a grudge. Just because I trashed his mansion, flirted with all twenty-nine of his sisters, used Shinigami to squish a mouse and nearly ended up trampling him, let loose a herd of elephants in his backyard, destroyed everything that belonged to his late mother, shattered all the windows by playing heavy metal too loud, crashed his limo into the lake, lit his priceless heirlooms on fire by accident... 

**Trowa Barton**

**T**ry to convince more people that I'm not mute. 

**T**ry to convince more people that I'm not a mime, either. 

**S**witch hair gels; I'm not really too anxious to repeat that incident where my hair nearly took out my left eye. 

**C**onvince Catherine that I really _can_ do my own laundry, and that I'm not shrinking all my jeans on purpose *coughcoughshuffleshuffle*. 

**C**onvince Catherine that Lion-san doesn't exactly appreciate being called Mr. Lion-Poopy. 

**C**onvince Catherine that I don't exactly appreciate being called Mr. Trowy-Poopy, especially when around Duo. 

**C**onvince Catherine that not-so-tall, dark, and handsome isn't always a good thing--Heero's about as romantic as a cactus, and will literally blow you away if you touch him. 

**C**onvince Catherine that good looks and charms aren't everything--Duo's got the attention span of a flea, and a brain the size of a pea, and yes I have been practicing my rhyming, like that's a bad thing. 

**C**onvince Catherine that not all cute blonde males like to be huggled and pinched--Quatre's got twenty-nine other women to do that on a daily basis. 

**C**onvince Catherine--erm, _try_ to convince Catherine--that Wufei isn't really a, "scrawny, balding, snot-nosed little assclown who ought to be arrested by the fashion police!" 

**C**onvince Catherine that it isn't worth picking catfights with Relena just because she happens to like AC-Town. 

**C**onvince Heero that it isn't worth picking gunfights with Duo just because he thinks Guns 'N' More Guns couldn't possibly compare to Really Limp Bizkit. 

**S**omehow find a way to unload all these convincing responsibilities onto Quatre's shoulders (naturally). 

**Quatre Raberba Winner**

**S**omehow end Duo's fascination with finding out what a spotted dick is. Why can't he believe me when I tell him that it's a kind of English pudding? And just what's so interesting about the name 'spotted dick' in the first place? It's not like it suggests something bad or anything, right? 

**H**ide my stash of platinum cards in the one place where nobody will think to look--Iria's lingerie drawer! Oh, no, wait, Duo'll most definitely look there. Darn! 

**G**o through with joining the Tea-holics Anonymous organization. 

**G**et a trench coat and Fedora hat. Apparently, Dorothy can still recognize me in one of those glasses with fake nose and mustache things. 

**T**ry to convince Dorothy that I'm not interested in a fencing rematch. Getting a sword stuck in your stomach once is more than enough, thank you very much. 

**C**onvince Duo that one's supposed to stick out their pinkie--NOT their middle finger--when sipping tea (or guzzling down beer, in Duo's case). 

**C**onvince Duo that crossing his arms above his genitalia--whatever that's supposed to mean--is a very rude way to greet British bluebloods. And just exactly what does he mean by "Suck it", anyway? 

**C**onvince my sisters that three-hundred-and-fifty-nine sets of pink shirts and purple vests is more than enough. 

**G**et a new brand of hair gel for Rasid. He looks like an owl with that hairstyle! 

**T**ry to convince more people that I'm Arabian, and that I'm naturally blonde, blue-eyed, and pale-skinned. No people, it's not bleach, it's not contacts, and it's not...whatever that thing is that Micah Jacksonian used to make himself look like a cream puff. 

**R**emind Duo that Elvis impressions aren't usually of Fat Elvis, and that girls usually don't appreciate their boyfriends jumping onto the table in an expensive seafood restaurant while celebrating an anniversary, dressed up like Elvis Presley with pillows stuffed down his costume, and screeching out, "Let the bodies hit the flooooooor!" because they don't know any Elvis songs. 

**T**ry to remember all twenty-nine birthdays of my older sisters. I don't think I can deal with any more sulking, crying, and huffing because I forgot two of those birthdays. 

**Chang Wufei**

**B**ring more justice to this world. JUSTICE! 

**B**low up all music stores carrying teenypop albums like that slut Whitney Lears and those sissy boy bands. JUSTICE! 

**C**hop off Maxwell's hair, once and for all. I've been attacked by that whip of a braid more than enough. JUSTICE! 

**C**onvince the justice system that I'm most certainly qualified enough to be a judge. JUSTICE! 

**S**omehow get that Peacecraft onna away from politics. We do not weak onnas in our government body, we need manly men like myself. JUSTICE! 

**D**efeat Maxwell at seeing who can drink more alcohol to prove to him that the Great Chang Wufei really is more manly than he could ever hope to be. JUSTICE! 

**T**rack down that Great-Grandpa Rock person that Duo's always listening to and serve him a healthy dose of justice. True manly men will never prance around shirtless, acting like a gigolo. JUSTICE! 

**B**low up the record companies producing albums for those sissy boy bands who wear their boxers hitched up to their nipples. JUSTICE! 

**S**how that Maxwell idiot that wrestling's not a manly sport, no matter how bloody and brutal it gets. Grown men in their underwear, faking punches at each other and raising eyebrows, is in no way manly. JUSTICE! 

**B**ring even more justice to this world. JUSTICE! 


End file.
